Sleepover
by fearlessgoddess2
Summary: Dean goes to a sleepover, with dangerous results. Weechester. Half third person, half outsider POV.


**Dean goes on a sleepover, with dangerous results. Weechester, Dean eight, Sam four, half third person and half outsider POV.**

**Note: Someone pointed out that Monsters Inc. wouldn't have been out when Dean was that young, but I'll just take some liberties with it! :)**

**Sleepover**

Dean wasn't really sure if Dad's reaction to the birthday invitation made sense.

It had been three long years since mommy had been killed. Dad's entire personality had shifted that night. He was always scared. Scared that someone would hurt Dean or Sammy, that something bad would happen, that he wouldn't be able to protect them. Dean did the best he could to comfort Dad, especially on bad nights, like the ones where Dad would come home smelling like Vodka. He would tell Dad that everything was going to be okay. And his Dad would smile that tired smile of his before getting into bed. Dean would also do his best to take care of Sammy, since Sammy was too small to take care of himself and his Dad was always either researching, out hunting, or tired from them. Sammy needed to stay safe from the monsters, so when Dad couldn't watch him that was Dean's job. And Dad was always strict about staying safe, about following orders so nothing bad would happen.

So it was all the more odd when Dean came home from school one day and his Dad found an invitation to a sleepover in his backpack. Honestly Dean had forgotten all about it. It wasn't like he went to birthday parties. It just wasn't something he did.

Dad sat heavily down in the kitchen chair, staring at the colorful, sparkly invitation proudly announcing the birthday of a boy named Kyle. He licked his lips anxiously, letting out a heavy sigh and staring at the piece of cardboard as if it were something deeply important, running a hand over his face.

Dean blinked his long eyelashes at his Dad and waited for a long moment before he asked, "…What?"

Dad looked up to Dean slowly, lowering the invitation to his lap, and sighed, "You want to go?"

Dean blinked again. "Why?"

Dad furrowed his brow, as if that troubled him a bit, and pursed his lips before nodding. "You should go. Eat cake. Have fun. Be a kid," he muttered.

"But…what if something happens?" Dean asked, without knowing what else to say.

"Dean, it's a birthday party," Dad told him quietly.

After a long moment of puzzlement over the answer that wasn't really an answer, Dean realized that he didn't really care one way or the other, but for some reason he couldn't work out, Dad did. Dad looked almost sad, actually, that Dean didn't want to go. So Dean shrugged and nodded. "Okay. I'll go."

Dad let out a long breath and gave his son a ragged smile, reaching over for the phone and picking it up to RSVP.

00000

Kyle grinned at the television screen as Monsters Inc. ended, going over and turning off the TV.

"Boo is sooooo funny," one of the other boys, Johnny, said with a wide smile. "Kitty! Rawr!" he exclaimed, jumping off of the couch and landing on another boy, tackling him to the ground.

"Watch it!" Brian, a second boy, exclaimed as he shoved him off playfully.

"Another movie?" Kyle asked, taking the tape out of the VCR and replacing it in the case.

"Sure," the first boy replied.

Kyle looked over to the third boy, who wasn't saying anything. He knew Dean Winchester from school, and honestly wasn't sure if the invitation would even be accepted. Dean was cool, in a weird kind of way. Stuck to himself, but stuck up for himself also. He acted oddly like a grown-up sometimes, actually. "Dean, what do you think?" he asked.

Dean looked over to Kyle, shrugging. "Whatever you want."

"How cool would it be if monsters were real?" Johnny asked, drawing Kyle's gaze.

Kyle laughed. "And like, they'd come out of the closet and tell jokes and burp up microphones like Mike did?"

"I think that'd be really funny," Brian told him. "If they were real, and they were totally scared of little kids."

"I'd want to go visit Sully," Kyle exclaimed. "And, like, ride around on his back like Boo did!" He looked to Dean, who was staring at him solemnly. "Wouldn't you want to go there?" he asked.

Dean narrowed his eyes, looking from Kyle to Brian to Johnny uneasily before shrugging. "I guess. If monsters were really like that."

"If monsters were real," Brian added.

"Hey, my attic's haunted!" Kyle exclaimed suddenly.

Johnny narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Kyle. "No way."

"Yeah, way," he insisted. "Me and my mom I went up there when we first moved here and all these boxes came off the shelf at us and my mom just locked the door and never went back in."

"Come on," Brian muttered, his gaze disbelieving but also guarded.

"I'll show you," Kyle told him. "It's all dusty and old and everything."

"You said she keeps it locked," Johnny said, his eyes still narrowed.

Kyle rolled his eyes. "I know where the key is. What, you think I'm stupid? Come on, I'll show you." He walked toward the kitchen, Brian and Johnny instantly on his heels, but stopped when he realized Dean hadn't risen up from his seat on the couch. "You coming, Dean? Or you scared?" he taunted.

00000

Dean stared at Kyle, his heart speeding up in his chest.

Yeah, he _was_ scared, actually. When Dean asked, Dad said that he would be scared of the monsters he fought. To not be scared of this stuff wasn't brave; it was just stupid. What Dad did was push past the fear when he went hunting. Dean wasn't worried about being made fun of about it. He was too smart to worry about that. They would probably be leaving town within a month anyway. So Dean was just scared of being hurt by this thing. But he was more scared of the others being hurt by it, because they were trying to be brave but they didn't know how to protect themselves.

"I'll go," he sighed, as if he were bored, following them to the kitchen.

Kyle smiled deviously as he led the way into the kitchen. Dean pursed his lips anxiously as they went in, looking around, and spotting what he was looking for. Salt. Salt kept bad things back. Including spirits. When Kyle went into a kitchen drawer looking for the key, Dean swiped the saltshaker from the kitchen table, curling his fist around it as he let his arm hang against his side, hiding the shaker up his sleeve.

Dean followed Kyle up the stairs to the second floor and over to the staircase up to the attic. Kyle paused dramatically at the top, carefully inserting the key into the doorknob and turning it.

00000

Kyle's wide eyes looked around the filthy, unused attic as he and his friends silently wandered into it.

"Whoa," Brian murmured.

"Cool," Johnny whispered.

Kyle looked over to Dean, but Dean remained silent. He was just looking suspiciously around the area, as if expecting something to jump out at him. Kyle grinned in amusement. "Check it out, there's all sorts of old pictures over here," he told his friends, going over to one of the shelves. He took a box off, dumping it on the floor.

Brian picked up one of them and giggled. "Look at how funny they're dressed," he spoke.

Johnny looked at it and nodded, going through the pictures. "Oooh, she's pretty," he said quietly, looking at a young woman in a white wedding dress.

Kyle glanced up from the pictures and back over to Dean, raising his eyebrows. He still didn't seem interested in what the others were doing. He seemed so serious. "Take a chill pill, Dean," Kyle told him. "Wimp," he muttered under his breath.

Just then, a small gust of wind slid through the room, ruffling the pictures. Brian looked up, wide-eyed, trying to find an open window. "What was that?" he whispered. Johnny's breath started to come faster and he let the pictures in his hand flutter to the ground.

Kyle searched the room, eyes darting around, for a source of the wind, but his breath suddenly caught in his throat. He let out a whimper at what he saw, a young man flickering into view, walking gradually over to the pictures out on the ground, the wind rustling them as the small boys backed up. Kyle realized that Dean was slowly making his way in front of him and the other two, standing between them and the ghost.

"My pictures," the man whispered, staring in despair at the photographs splayed over the ground. He looked up to the boys, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "You stupid, careless children!" he yelled, marching toward them.

Kyle and Brian let out a cry of fear, Johnny too shocked to make any sounds. Kyle watched, stunned, as Dean flung something through the air, flying it through the ghost and it cried out, as if in pain. "Go!" Dean exclaimed, whirling on the other boys and shoving them toward the door. Kyle and Brian bolted for the door, Dean grabbing Johnny's hand and jerking it to pull him after them, since his feet seemed to be glued to the ground.

Dean snatched the key from Kyle's shaky hand, locking the door, and the boys stumbled down the steps, as quick footsteps came walking down the hallway a floor down. "Kyle, what are you doing?" his mother cried.

"We were just—."

"You are not allowed in there!" the woman exclaimed, taking the key from Dean's hand.

That was when Johnny burst into tears.

00000

Dean sat in the living room for a long half hour, only looking up when he heard the door open for a second time. Johnny had already gone home and Brian was sitting silently beside Dean, also raising his eyes as John Winchester stormed into the house past Nancy Grayer and over to his son.

Dean looked up to John with wide eyes, meeting his gaze as he crouched in front of him, putting his hands on his shoulders.

"You okay?" John asked, looking over Dean, as if to check for injuries.

Dean nodded. "I'm fine."

"He's fine, Mr. Winchester," Mrs. Grayer told him. "Kyle just thought it would be fun to—."

"You told me what happened," John growled, rising quickly to his feet. She blinked at him, almost flinching back. "What the Hell is the matter with you? You don't consider that room off limits to Kyle?"

"Of course I do—," she started to protest.

"Obviously not, because he went in there and my son could have been hurt," John snapped.

"There is no ghost in that attic," Mrs. Grayer scoffed, though Dean saw a bit of doubt in her eyes.

To Dean's surprise, John didn't object to that. "I don't care if you think that attic is the most spiritually inactive site on the face of the planet! You said you don't go up there at all, so for all you know the flooring is weak, there's fungus growing in the corners, or there are dangerous items from the previous tenants in boxes that the boys could get into!" Mrs. Grayer shifted on her feet uncomfortably. "You're a moron if you think I'm ever letting my son come back to this house," he told her, taking Dean's hand firmly and leading him toward the door.

"Thanks, Dean," Kyle blurted out as he left.

Dean noticed that John hesitated at that, allowing his son to respond with a quiet, "You're welcome," before they continued out of the house. He walked quickly over to the Impala, motioning for Dean to take shotgun as he got into the car and started it, pulling out onto the road. Dean glanced into the back seat where Sammy was in his car seat, sleeping.

John was silent for a long moment before he spoke. "Why'd he say thank you?" he asked softly.

Dean looked up, surprised at his choice of the first question to ask. "Um…." Dean swallowed, looking down to his hands. "They were gonna go up with or without me," he said, his voice quiet. "But they didn't know why it was so dangerous."

John paused. "Why'd he say thank you?" he repeated.

"I brought salt from the kitchen," Dean said, his voice small. "When the ghost showed up, I threw it at him and we ran."

After a very long pause, John cleared his throat, nodding. He shifted his hand up to Dean's shoulder, clapping it twice. "Good boy," he murmured.

Dean's wide eyes looked up to John, a small smile surfacing on his face and a bit of pride brewing in his chest, as John removed his hand and continued to speed down the road back toward their small apartment.

Dean never got a scolding about his choice to go up to the attic. There was never another mention of the incident. But he never went to another child's house for a play date again.


End file.
